Belonging
by Luke2Leia
Summary: Marko doesn't always feel like he belongs, though his brothers think otherwise... I own nothing but the ramblings inspired by a discord discussion...


Belonging

…..

Warnings: semi-graphic sex, dysphoria

…..

He hated this. It had been such a good night, the rush of the wind rippling through his hair as they rode their bikes at breakneck speed down the beach. The way prey parted for them, wild-eyed and skittering like startled deer when they walked down the boardwalk. The smell of fear and alcohol in the air when they found dinner.

If only he hadn't got carried away again. It was hard sometimes, when the food looked at him like he wasn't as scary as the rest, like they might have a chance against him. It made his cold blood boil, made him want to dig in with razor claws, to _rend_ and _break_ and _peel_, hear the screams echo in his brain, feel the meat split and blood spray hot on his face.

By the time he was done, he was soaked to his skin, dripping with cooling red slick, scent of iron thick in his nose and mouth. Paul licked at his cheek, down his neck, almost purring, running hot with the rush of the kill.

They'd kissed, all sharp teeth and wicked tongues, sharing blood, their own and the dregs of dinner. Still clothed, they ground against each other, Paul gripping him tight, firm bulge rocking into him till he shook with release, teeth sunk deep in his brother's shoulder, eyes rolling back as the wave took him.

Eager to return the favor, he knelt, freeing the beautiful, thick cock that he knew so well. Sucking it down to the root, Paul clutching his hair, whining and rolling, begging to move faster. A tilt of his head, shift of hands to wrap around Paul's waist was all the hint that was needed. Hands locked on his scalp, hips snapping, golden eyes glued to his own until the last moment when they rolled back, body above him slowing to a sensual grind, salty-cool release slipping down his throat.

Paul pulled him up, kissed him again, then laughed. Patted his jacket, grown stiff and heavy as it started to congeal.

"Time for a wash, yeah?"

Sighing, Marko nodded, following his brothers back to the bikes, back to home, back to the shadowy tunnel that led to the tide pool they used to clean up. Watching the rest, who moved so easily, so freely, shedding clothes without hesitation. Even Dwayne was relaxed, the silver scars on his nearly flat, toffee chest nearly invisible to any but the most intimate inspection.

Here was his failure, his shame, the ruin of another good night as his body betrayed him, as it would for all eternity. He slowly pulled off jacket and boots, glancing at his brothers to see if they were staring. They never did, it never mattered to them, but even after decades he still imagined they would, imagined pity that was never there, and hated himself for it.

Steeling himself, he slid off the chaps and jeans, slipping into and under the water with his top still on, rinsing the night's meal out of his hair, off his face and arms. When he emerged, Dwayne stood, his back turned, between him and his brothers, the gentle giant providing him a solid screen of privacy.

Dwayne always knew, always understood, when he was at his worst, when he couldn't stand to look at himself, let alone have the gaze of his brothers on him. He turned away, finally peeling out of the ragged white top and the tight binder beneath it, rubbing them on the rocks and rinsing them to get the stains out. There were many colors they could be, worn and aged as they were, but pink could never be one of them.

He cursed, realizing he'd forgotten to grab some detergent, only to feel a light tap of an elbow on his back. Looking over his shoulder, he saw Dwayne had him covered yet again, bar of soap bright against the dark skin of his outstretched hand.

"Thanks."

There was slight movement of Dwayne's hair as he nodded, never turning around. Marko turned back, scrubbing fiercely with the soap, reddish-pink foaming up and washing away, leaving the clothes an acceptable shade of grey-white as he sloughed the stained water out of the way, over the side of the low pool to find its way back to the sea. Placing the cleanser off to the side, he rinsed them once more before putting them back on, smoothing and adjusting himself, finally turning to face the group.

Dwayne smiled down, eyes warm as Marko moved past him, to sling a heavy arm over his shoulders, leaning hard to sink him down. Glaring at the taller man, he went to bite at ribs just as he was hit with a wave of water, the cackle of a shaggy-haired menace in his now water-logged ears.

He turned towards the source, eyes flashing a second before he leapt, tackling his brother and taking them both under, all sharp elbows and knees as they grappled. He came up laughing, his brother's arms wrapped around him, David and Dwayne smiling brightly, sharing a cigarette as they watched.

Glancing up, he saw Paul trying to scowl as he patted his bedraggled mane, failing as his naturally buoyant attitude won, false frown slipping to his trademark grin as he winked back at Marko. Maybe the night wasn't that bad after all.


End file.
